SoMa: FOR EVERYTHING
by Shinji Kato
Summary: when it's raining outside, what do you do? Soul keeps to himself, but what goes on in his head? WAIT SOUL WHAT THE HELL, I DIDN'T KNOW YOU'RE TSUNDERE XD "why does that sound like a good thing for you?" rated *T for foul language and fluff overload. *FTW*


**Hello, minna-san.**

**I'm new to this kind of writing, and this is my first fan-fiction. XD *ftw***

**Drop by at my deviantart account, .com if you want.**

**I do not own SOUL EATER! If I did, people would be drowning in fluff and lemon right now. XD**

[SOUL'S POV]

I hate the rain.

Call it MOODSWING or something, but that's just the type of person I am. It's not like I hate it just 'cause it makes going outside a tedious task, preventing me to hang out with my friends. Don't get me wrong – I like my friends no matter how idiocy takes over the best of them at times, but there are times when I just feel like being with myself and no one else for a change.

This is one of those times.

Eversince Sweet Shinigami knows when, I've developed this habit to sit beside the window and stare at the gray sky whenever rain falls, all the while recapitulating past events – no matter how serious or trivial – that had affected me. Emotions pent up inside just surge all in my head – and usually, these are negative emotions, like depression, solitude, confusion, anxiety… apathy. None that came were happy, excitement, whatever. They all creep back into my mind like parasites – like the Red Imp that once resided in a part of my imagination called the Black Room. The more I try to forget and ignore them as if they're non-existent, the more they exasperate me, and the longer they linger.

I know that in some culture in some bizarre place, rain is a sign of something good, but for me, it symbolizes the opposite.

It rained like this when grandfather died from brain cancer. While Wes kept a blank expression all-throughout the funeral, I cried a lot as if the rain and my tears both dropped at the same speed.

It rained this hard when Wes moved out of our house back in Wisconsin, and flew off to München. There, he got a chance to improve his violin skills – not that he sucked at it. That was the last time I saw him. Of course, he's still alive. It's just that he doesn't pay a visit.

It continued on like this, like when I got expelled from my old school, just because they thought I was involved – and the leader – in a brawl my classmates started against the neighboring school. As they covered themselves with sweat and blood, I was sleeping soundly in the comfort of my own bed; I declined their offer to accompany them. They all blamed me, and got me kicked out, while all they got was suspension. Pretty damn crazy, right? I call it BULLSHIT. Where's the justice? Sweet Shinigami, damn it, this is America, right? Just 'cause my eyes are bloody red naturally, locks that're silver, sharp teeth, and all features make me look like a villain from a Tim Burton movie does not mean I am and that I'm a hooligan.

Rain also fell like this when I left home.

"Soul, can you stop trying to grope the window like that? It's sick and wrong," Maka said while standing behind me and holding two mugs. She extended one of her arms to offer me coffee. I moved nearer to the wall, giving her space to scoot beside me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine, Maka. Don't worry about it."

I could've kept my mouth shut because I know Maka's just gonna laugh so hard if she ever hears this, but my mouth blabbered on about involuntarily anyway, "the rain's just got me a bit down, that's all." I cannot keep a secret from Maka. How uncool. How fucking uncool.

Instead of laughter, I heard a sigh escaping her lips. She said – in a matter-of-fact, bookworm Maka way – that it was normal. People – some people – just can't help their mood being affected by the weather.

"I like it when it rains, though."

"…"

"I mean, it's only one of those times when I get reminded of what I really feel." My point exactly – wait, "why does that sound like a good thing for you?" I blurted out loud.

"I don't know. Kinda makes me feel… human, or something. Not that I'm not! It's just that we're always away on missions, and things like emotions can only serve as weakness in the battlefield so we're forced to leave them behind for a while, right? It's my only time to ponder on them, that's all," she said and finished with another sigh.

"A lot of bad things happen on rainy days," I replied; she nodded in agreement. "That's true, Soul, but not all things that happen on a raining day are bad..."

"… Come to think of it, it was raining like this when we met at the music room."

"Oh…" was all the reply I could mutter. I'm not very much a fan of details, so I don't exactly remember it.

When I met Maka, I was such a fucking mess. I was so damn insecured over my older brother Wes (people coil it INFERIORITY COMPLEX) that it even drove me out of my own family's life. I pushed them away. I was so sick and tired of hearing those never-ending comparisons and contrasts between us, when at the end of it all, only he was reigned great, and I can only serve as his shadow, constantly following him. Never having the chance to lead. If Maka and I didn't meet each other, I would probably still be gallivanting on my crappy way, caring about nothing. I always acted before like nothing was worth my effort and no one worth my attention when in truth, I was only afraid of failing and rejection that I tried to shut everything out of me, so that I won't get hurt. If I don't expect, nothing would be painful. I shut my whole damn life from everyone to see so that when people judge me, I won't be able to give a damn about it. It was actually a cowardly act.

Living with Maka must've rubbed off some of her traits on me. Yeah, she's bad-tempered, but everyone gets a bit of that, right? Forget about having tiny tits (although it's fun teasing her – so don't tell her about this), when she's got a big heart. She cares a lot about everything and everyone around her. She's got a big ego, sure, but it matches the size of her confidence and determination. She's got compassion and tries to understand someone's feeling to a great extent.

Being with her makes me feel like I'll be able to do anything, and that even the sky won't be a limit.

Setting my cup by the window pane, I put an arm 'round Maka's waist, while my other hand assists her cup beside mine. Then I also put it around her.

"Thanks…"

"… For the coffee…?"

Man, she's making me say such uncool things. "For everything."

**Cliffhanger? Don't worry. I'll be uploading a new one, extended with some more paragraphs and puff for you. *smiles* :D**

**Reviews & comments are loved, by the way. **


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